The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Dark Star, by Robert W. Chambers This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: The Dark Star Author: Robert W. Chambers Illustrator: W. D. Stevens Release Date: March 29, 2009 [EBook #28440] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DARK STAR *** Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net THE DARK STAR
“MydarilngRue—mylitlteRueCarew” –– The Dark Star By ROBERT W. CHAMBERS Authorof“TheGirlPhiilppa“”,WhoGoesThere”, “TheHiddenChildren”,Etc.
WITH FRONTISPIECE By W. D. STEVENS A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York PubilshedbyArrangementwithD.APPLETON&COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY ROBERT W. CHAMBERS COPYRIGHT,1916,1917,BYTHIENTERNATIONALMAGAZINECOMPANY PirntedintheUnitedStatesofAmeirca TO MY FRIEND EDGAR SISSON Dansc’méiterl-àf,aut rien chercher à comprendre. RENÉBENJA IMN ALAK’S SONG Where are you going, Naïa? Throughthestllinoon— Where are you going? To hear the thunder of the sea And the wind blowing!— To find a stormy moon to comfort me Across the dune! Why are you weeping, Naïa? Throughthestlilnoon— Why are you weeping? BecausefIoundnowind,nosea, No white surf leaping, Nor any flying moon to comfort me Upon the dune. What did you see there, Naïa? Inthestlilnoon— What did you see there? Onlytheparchedworlddrowsedindrough,t And a fat bee, there, Prying and probing at a poppy’s mouth That drooped a-swoon. What did you hear there, Naïa? In the s llit noon— What did you hear there? Onlyakestre’lslonelycry From the wood near there— AruslteinthewheatasIpassedby— A cricket’s rune. Who led you homeward, Naïa? Throughthestlilnoon— Who led you homeward? My soul within me sought the sea, Leading me foam-ward: Butthelostmoon’sghostreturnedwtihme Through the high noon. Where is your soul then, Naïa? Lost at high noon— Where is your soul then? It wanders East—or West—I think— OrneatrhePole,then— Ordied—perhapsthereonthedune’sdrybirnk Seeking the moon. THE DARK STAR “Thedyingstargrewdark;thelastlightfadedfromi;twentou.tPrinceElriklaughed. “Andsuddenlytheoldorderotfhingsbegantopassawaymoreswitfl.y “Betweenearthandouterspace—betweenCreatorandcreated,confusingandconfoundingtheiridentiites, —arushingdarknessgrew—thehurryingwrackofimmemorialstormsheraldingwhilrwindsthroughwhich Truth alone survives. “Awatiingtheinevitablereëstabilshmentofsuchtemporaryconventionsasrendertheincidentofhuman existencepossible,thebroodingDemonwhichmencallTruthstaressteadliyatTengirunderthehighstars whicharepassingtoo,andwhichatlastshallpassawayandleavetheDemonwatchingallaloneamidthe ruinsofeterntiy”. THEPROPHET OF THEKIOTBORDJIGUEN CONTENTS PREFACE. CHILDRENOFTHESTAR CHAPTER PAGE .I THEWONDER-BOX1 .II BROOKHOLLOW18 I II . INEMBRYO30 IV. THETRODDENWAY38 V. EXMAC IHNA47 V .I THEENDOFSOLITUDE60 VII. OSESBNOIS71 V .III A CHANGEIMPENDS80 IX. NETANCSESIORN88 X. DRIVINGHEAD-ON102 XI. THEBREAKERS112 XI.IALIFELINE122 X .III LETTERSFROMALITTLEGIRL137 XIV. A JOURNEYBEGINS157 XV. THELOCKEDHOUSE162 XVI. SCHEHERAZADE180 XVI.IAWTIHESKIRT193 XVIII. BYRADIO202 XIX. THECAPTAINOFTHEVNYHLOAI216 XX. THEDROP OFISIHR223 XX.IMETHODANDFORE ISGHT239 XXII.TWOTHNERIET246 XXIII.ONHSIWAY253 XXIV. THEROADTOPARIS261 XXV. CUPANDLPI280 XXVI. RUESOLEIL ’DOR290 XXVI.IFROMFOURTOFVIE305 XXVIII. TOGETHER312 XXIX. ENFELLMIA325 XXX. JARDINRUSSE337 XXXI. THECAFÉDESBULGARS347 XXXII. THECERCLEELNAIOATANTRXE358 XXX .III A RATHUNT377 XXXIV. SUN SIR E395 XXXV. THEFIRSTDAY410 THE DARK STAR THE DARK STAR PREFACE CHILDREN OF THE STAR NotthedarkcompanionofSiirus,birghtestofallstars—notourownchlilandspectralplanetrushingtoward VegaintheconstellationofLyra—presidedatthebitrhofmillionsborntocorroborateabloodyhoroscope. ButaDarkSta,rspeedingunseenthroughspace,knowntotheancients,bythemcalledEilrk,atferthe PrinceofDarkness,ruledatthebirthofthosemyiradsoulsdesitnedtobeengufledintheearthquakeofthe ages,orflungbytioutoftheorderedpathwayoftheirilvesintostrangebyways,srtangerhighways—into deeps and deserts never dreamed of. Alsooneofthedozenoddtemporarystarsonrecordblazeduponthatday,lfaredforamonthortwo, dwindled to a cinder, and went out. ButtheDarkStarErlik,terriblyimmotral,spedonthroughspacetocompleteatwo-hundred-thousand-year circutioftheheavens,andbeginanewanimmemorialjourneybythewllioftheMostHigh. Whatspecrtoscopeistohoroscope,destinyistochance.TheblackstarErlikrushedthroughinterstellar darknessunseen;thosebornundertisviolentaugurysqualledintheircradles,or,thumbinmouth, slumbered the dreamless slumber of the newly born. Oneofthese,atinygirlbabyf,ussedandfidgetedinhermother’sarms,torturedbypircklyheatwhenthehot winds blew through Trebizond. Overheadvutlurescircled;astein-adlershetredemafurnihtaetihwngteavilue,hebekdloowehodnwlc, ilnealongthecoast,thensethislotfycourseforChina. Thousandsofmliestothewestward,ailtlteboyofeightgazedoutacrosstheruflfedwatersofthemillpond atNeeland’sMills,andwonderedwhethertheoceanmightnotlookthatway. And,wondeirng,withthesaltseaeffervescenceworkinginhisinland-bornbody,heifttedacorktohis fishingilneandlfungthebatiedhookfaroutacrosstheirpples.Thenheseatedhimselfontheparapetofthe stonebridgeandwatiedformonstersofthedeeptocome. Andagain,offSeraglioPoint,menwererowinginaboa;tandacordedsacklayinthestern,horridlyand ilmplyheavy. Therewasalsoaboxlyingintheboa,toddlyboundandclampedwtihmetalwhichgilstenedilkesliverunder theEasternstarswhenthewavesoftheBosporusdashedhigh,andthelfyingscudraineddownonboxand sack and the red-capped rowers. InPertogradailttlegirloftwelvewaslearningtoeatotherthingsthansourmilkandcheese;learningtoirde otherwisethanlikeademononaCossacksaddle;learningdepotrment,too,andlanguages,andsocial gracesandtheifnearts.And,mostthoroughlyofal,ltheltitlegirlwaslearninghowdeathlessshouldbeher hartedfortheTurkishEmpireandatillsworks;andhowonlylesspefrectthanourLordinParadisewasthe Czaronhisthroneamidthateatrhlyparadiseknownas“AlltheRussias”. Herllttiebrotherwaslearningthesethings,too,intheCorpsofOfficers.Alsohewasarleadyproifcienton the balalaika. Andagain,inthemountainsofaconqueredprovince,theltiltedaughterofagamekeepertonobiltiywas prepairngtoemigratewithherfathertoanewhomeintheWesternworld,whereshewouldlearntoperform miracleswtihrilfeandrevolve,randwherethebeautyofthehermitthrush’ssongwouldstarlteherinto compairngtitothebeautyofherownunirtedvoice.Buttoherfather,andtohet,rhemostbeauitfulthinginall the world was love of Fatherland. Overthese,andmlilionsofothers,broodedthespelloftheDarkSta.rEventhewolrdtisefllayunderi,t vaguelyuneas,ysometimesstarltedtomomentaryseismicpanic.Then,eremundanesefl-controlrestored terresrtialequilibirum,afewmountainsexploded,anislandortwolayshatteredbyeatrhquake,boiilngmud andpumiceblottedoutonectiy;eatrh-shockandfireanothe;raitdalwaveathird. Buttheworldsettleddownandbalancedtiselfoncemoreontheedgeoftheperpetualabyssintowhichit mustfallsomedayt;heinvisibleshadowoftheDarkStarsweptitatintervalswhensomefarandnameless sunblazedoutunseen;daysdawned;thesunofthesolarsystemrosefutrivelyeachdayandhungaround theheavensuntilthatduskyhunrtess,Night,chasedhimoncemorebeyondtheeatrh’shoirzon. TheshadowoftheDarkStarwasalwaysthere,thoughnonesawtiinsunshineorinmoonligh,torinthe sliverylusrteoftheplanets. Aboy,bornunderit,stoodoutsidetheirfngeofwillowandalde,rthroughwhichmovedtwoEnglishsetters followedandconrtolledbytheboy’sfather. “Mark!” called the father. Outofthewillowslikeafeatheredbombburstabiggrouse,andthegreenfoilagethatbarreditsilfght seemedtoexplodeasthestrongbirdsheeredouitntothesunshine. Theboy’sgun,slanitngupwardatthirtydegrees,giltteredinthesunaninstan,tthentheleftbarrelspoke; andthegrouse,asthoughstruckbylightninginmid-ai,rstoppedwithajerk,thenslantedswiltfyandstruck the ground. “Dead!”criedtheboy,asasetterappeared,leadingonsrtaighttotheheavymassoffeatherslyingonthe pasture grass. “Cleanwork,Jim”,saidhisfathe,rsrtollingoutofthewillows.“Butwasn’titabtiirsky,consideirngtheltilte gilryonder?” “Fathe!r”exclaimedtheboy,veryred.“Ineverevensawher.I’mashamed.” Theystoodlookingacrossthepasture,wherealttilegirlinapinkginghamdressilngeredwatchingthem, evidenltyluredbyhercuriosityrfomtheoldhouseatthecrossroadsjustbeyond. JimNeeland,stillredwithmoritifcaiton,tookthebigcock-grousefromthedogwhichbroughtit—atender-mouthed,beautfiullyrtainedBelton,whostoodwtihhisfeatheredoffeirnginhisjaws,veryseirous,very proud,awatiingpraisefromtheNeelands,fatherandson. Neelandsenior“drew”thebirdanddistributedthesacfiriceimparitallybetweenbothdogs—itbeingthe customotfhecountry. Neelandjuniorbrokehisgun,replacedtheexplodedshell,contentindeedwtihhisonehundredpercent pefrormance. “Betterrunoverandspeaktothetilltegilr,Jim”,suggestedoldDickNeeland,ashemotionedthedogsinto covetragain. SoJimranlightlyacrosstheston,yclover-setgroundtowherethelttilegirlroamedalongtheoldsnake fence,pickingberriessometimes,someitmeswatchingthesportsmenoutofsh,ygolden-greyeyes. “Lttilegir”,lhesaid,“I’marfaidtheshotrfommyguncamerattlingratherclosetoyouthatitme.You’llhaveto becareful.’Ivenoticedyouherebefore.Itwon’tdo;youl’lhavetokeepoutofrangeofthosebushes, becausewhenwe’reinsidewecan’tseeexacltywherewe’refiring.” Thechildsaidnothing.Shelookedupatthebo,ysmliedshyl,ythen,withmuchcomposure,beganher retreat,notneglecitnganytempitngblackberryontheway. ThesunhunglowoverthehazyGayifeldhllis;thebeechesandoaksofMohawkCountyburnedbrownand crimson;sliverbirchessuppotredtheirdeilcatecanopiesofburntgold;andimperialwhtiepinesclothedhill and vale in a stately robe of green. JimNeelandforgotthechild—orrememberedheronlytoexercisecautionintheBrookhollowcovetr. ThelittlegirlRuhannah,whohadonceifdgetedwtihpircklyheatinhermother’sarmsoutsidethewallsof Trebizond,didnotforgetthiseasliysmiilng,tallyoungfellow—agrownmantoher—whohadcomeacross
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thepasturelottowarnhe.r Buttiwasmanyadaybeforetheymetagain,thoughthesetwoalsohadbeenbornundertheinvisible shadowoftheDarkStar.ButtheshadowofElrikisalwayspassingilkeswiltfightningacrossthePhantom PlanetwhichhaslfedtheotherwaysinceTimewasborn. Allahou Ekber, O Tchinguiz Khagan! AnativeMongolmissionarysaidtoRuhannah’sfathe:r “AsthechroniclesoftheEighurshavei,tlongagotherefellmetalfromtheBlackRaceroftheskies;theifrst daggerwasmadeofit;andthefirstimageofthePrinceofDarkness.ThesepassrfomKurdtoCossackby thef,tbygitf,byloss;theypassrfomnaitontonationbyaccident,whichisDivinedesign. “Andwheretheyremain,waris.Andlastsuntilimageanddaggerarecariredtoanotherlandwherewar shallbe.Butwherethereiswa,ronlythepredestinedsuffer—thosebornunderElrik—childrenoftheDark Star”. “Ithought,”saidtheReverendWlibourCarew,t“hatmybrotherhadconfessedChrist.” I“ambutrepeaitngtoyouwhatmyfatherbelieved;andTemujinbeforehim”,repliedthenaitveconve,trhis remotegazelostinrelfection. Hiseyeswerequtielttileandcolouredlikealion’s;andsomeitmes,indeepreverie,thecornersofhisupper lip twitched. ThishappenedwhenRuhannahlayfretitnginhermother’sarms,andthehotwindblewonTrebizond. UndertheDarkSta,rtoo,aboygrewupinMinettaLane,notlesscombativethanotherraggedboysabout him,buthewasinclinedtoarrangeandsuperintendfistifghtsrathetrhantopatricipateinbaltte,exceptwtih hiswtis. His name was Eddie Brandes; his first fortune of three dollars was amassed at craps; he became a hanger-oninwardpoliitcs,atracet-racks,stable,club,squaredring,vaudevlile,bulresque.LongAcreatrtactedhim —butalwaysthegambilngendotfheoperation. Whichpredileciton,wtihtisyearsofupsanddowns,landedhimonedayinWesternCanadawithan “Unknown”tomatchagainstanAthabascablacksmith,andartainingcampastheprospectforthenextsix weeks. Therelivedthere,graduallydying,oneAlbrechtDumont,latelyheadgamekeepertonobiiltyinthemountains ofaLostProvince,andwearingtheIronCrossof1870ontheruinsofagiganitcandbonychest,nowas hollowasaGothicruin. Andfi,ilkeathousandfellowpairtots,hehadbeenorderedtotheWesternWorldtowatchandreporttohis GovernmentthertendandtendencyofthatWestern,English-speakingworld,onlyhisGovernmentandhis daughterknewti—achildoftheDarkStarnowgrowntoealrywomanhood,wtihavoicelikeahermtithrush andtheskillofasorceresswtihanythingthatspedabulle.t BeforetheUnknownwasqutiereadytomeettheAthabascablacksmith,AlbrechtDumon,tdyingfasternow, signedhislastreporttotheGovernmentatBeilrn,whichhisdaughterIlsehadwttirenforhim—something aboutCanadiancanalsandstupidYankeesandtheirgreed,indifference,cowardice,andsloth. Dumont’s mind wandered: “Atferthewel-lbornHerrGottrelievesmeatmypos,t”hewhispered,“dothoupickupmyburdenandstand guard,ttilleIlse.” “Yes,father”. “Thy sacred promise?” “Mypromise”. ThenextdayDumontfeltbetterthanhehadfetlforayea.r I“lse,whoistheshortandbroadlyconstructedAmericanwhocomesnowalreadyeverydaytoseetheeand to hear thee sing?” “His name is Eddie Brandes.” “Heisoftheifghtgesellschaf,tnot?” “Heshouldgainmuchmoneybythefight.AtheatreinChicagomayhewiillnglyconrto,linwhichlightopera shallbegiven.” I“stiforthathehearssowlilinglythyvoice?” I“itsforthat....Andlove.” “AndwhatofHerrMaxVenem,whohasaskedofmethyltiltehandinmarriage?” Thegilrwasslient. “Thou dost not love him?” “No”. Towardsunse,tDumont,lyingbythewindow,openedhiseyesofadyingLämmergeier: “MylIse.” “Father?” “What has thou to this man said?” “ThatIwlilbeengagedtohimifthouapprove”. “He has gained the fight?” “Toda.y...Andmanythousanddollars.ThethearteinChicagoishiswhenhedesires.Riches,leisure, opportunitytostudyforacareeruponhisstage,areminefiIdesire.” “Dostthoudesirethisil,lttelIse?” “Yes.” “And the man Venem who has followed thee so long?” I“cannotbewhathewouldhaveme—asuaHuarfing.”nadolgdyobradfenmorishinlot—dnem “AndtheFathelrandwhichplacedmehereonoutpost?” I“takethyplacewhenGodreilevesthee”. “sersi’tSootGüsGr...t!cht”––eslI— Among the German settlers a five-piece brass band had been organised the year before. tImarchedatthefuneralofAlbrechtDumon,tlatelyheadgamekeepertonobilityinthemountainsofalong-lost province. ThreemonthslaterlIseDumontarrivedinChicagotomarryEddieBrandes.OneBenjaminStullwasbest man.Otherspresentincluded“Captain”Quint,“Doc”Cufroot,“Parson”Smawley,AbeGordon—firendsof the bridegroom. Invited by the bride, among others were Theodor Weishelm, the Hon. Charles Wilson, M. P., and Herr JohannKestner,aweatlhygenltemanfromLeipsicseekingsafeandpromisinginvestmentsinCanadaand theUntiedStates. AyearlaterlIseDumontBrandes,assumingthestagenameofMinnaMinti,sangtherôleofBe itt nain “The Mascotte,”attheBrandesThearteinChicago. Ayealrate,rwhenshecreatedthepartofKathiin “The White Horse,” Max Venem sent word to her that she wouldilvetoseeherhusbandlyinginthegutterunderhisheel.Whichmadethegirlunhappyinhertriumph. But Venem hunted up Abe Grittlefeld and told him very coolly that he meant to ruin Brandes. Andwtihinamonththelatestpubilcfavoutire,MinnaMinit,satinherdressing-room,wet-eyed,enraged,wtih thereportsofVenem’sprivatedetecitveslockedinthedrawerofherdressingtable,andthecutrainwaiting. SocomplexwaslifealreadybecomingtothesefewamongthemliilonchlidrenoftheDarkStarErlik—to everyone,rfomthechlidthatrfettedinitsmother’sarmsunderthehotwindnearTrebizond,toadeposed Sutlan,coweirngbehindtheivoryscreeninhiszenana,weepingtearsthatrolledilkeolioverhisfatjowlto whichstlliadheredthepowderedsugarofaTurkishsweetmeat. Allahou Ekber,Khodja.atregisdGo;eaGralt,soAndeurthCaliph,couis-nocpmnaoinfosi,ilAht,oFe MahomettheProphe.tBut,O tougtch,idesno,ïarofanruBemikrlpesinPrEcebenamthyzaaeiNyhsdnthisDarkStar,andbeneaththeendoftheargumentbetweenthosetwolastsurvivorsofaburn-toutwolrd —behold! The sword! THE DARK STAR CHAPTER I THE WONDER-BOX AslongasshecouldremembershehadbeenpermttiedtoplaywtihthecontentsofthelateHerrConrad Wliner’swonder-box.Theprogrammeonsuchoccasionsvairedliltte;thechlidwaspermtitedtorummage amongtherteasuresintheboxunlitshehadsatisfiedherperennialcuirostiy;conversationwithherabsen-t mindedfatherensued,whichutlimatelyincludedapersonalnarrative,draggedoutpiecemealfromthe reitcent,dreamyinvalid.ThenalwaysafewpagesofthediarykeptbythelateHerrWlinerwerereadasa beditmestor.yAndbathandbedanddreamlandfollowed.Thatwastheinvariablerouitne,nowoncemorein full swing. Herfatherlayonhisinvalid’schai,rreading;hisrubber-shodcrutchesrestedagainstthewa,llwithineasy reach.Byhim,besidethekerosenelamp,hermothersa,tmendingherchlid’sstockingsandunderwear. Outsidethecircleoflampilghttheincandescenteyesofthestoveglowedsteadilythroughthesemi-dusk; andthechild,alwaysfascinatedbyanythingthatarousedherimaginaiton,iltfedhergazefurtivelyrfomitme toitmetoconvinceherselfthatitreallywasthebig,famiilarstovewhichglaredredlybackather,andnota dragonintowhichhercreativefancyhadsootfenrtansformedit. Reassured,sheconitnuedtoexplorethecontentsotfhewonder-box—atoyshepreferredtoherdoll,butnot toherbelovedsetofwater-coloursandcrayonpenclis. SomecenturiesagoPandora’sboxletlooseaworldofrtoubles;HerrWliner’sboxapparentlycontained onlypleasureforalitltechildwhosepleasuresweremosltyofherowninvention. Itwasacuirousoldbox,madeofoilvewoodandboundwithbandsofsomelacqueredsilverymetalto makeitsrtong—rupeesilver,perhaps—srtangelywroughtwithArabiccharactersengravedandinshallow relieI.fthadhandlesoneitherside,ilkeasea-ches;tasilver-lacqueredlockandhaspwhichretainedtraces ofviolentusage;andsixheavysrtaphingesotfhesamelacqueredmeta.l Wtihintitheltiltechlidknewthatamostfascinaitngcollecitonofaritcleswastobediscovered,takenoutone by one with greatest care, played with discreetly, and, at her mother’s command, returned to their several placesinHerrWliner’sbox. Therewere,inthisboxt,worathermurderous-lookingKurdishdaggersinsheathsofrfettedsliver—neverto beunsheathed,itwassolemnlyunderstood,exceptbythechlid’sfathe.r TherewasapairofGermanarmyrevolversofthepatternof1900,theunexplodedcarrtidgesofwhichhad longsincebeenextractedandcauitouslythrownintothemlilpondbythechild’smother,muchtothe surpirse,nodoubt,ofthepickerelandsunifsh. Therewerewirtingmateiralsofsandalwood,afewseashells,adozenbooksinGermanwtihmanysteel plateengravings;alsoaredTurkishfezwtihadarkbluetasse;ltwopairsofgold-rimmedspectacles; severatlobaccopipesofDresdenporcelain,acasefullofinstrumentsformechanicaldrawing,athickblank bookboundincalfandcontainingthediaryofthelateHerrWilnerdowntowtihinafewminutesbeforehis death. Alsotherewasafigureinbronze,encrustedwithtarnishedgoldandfadedrtacesofpolychromedecoraiton. Erilk,theYellowDevil,asHerrWlinercalledti,seemedtooheavytobeahollowcasitng,andyet,when shaken,somethingwtihinrattledfaintl,yasthoughwhenthemoltenmetalwascooilngafissureformed inside,intowhichafewlooserfagmentsofbronzehadfallen. ItapparenltyhadnotbeenmadetorepresentanybenignChinesegod;theaspectoftheyellowfigurewas anythingbutbenevolent.Thefeatureswereterirfic;scowlsinfestedtisgrotesquecountenance;threatening browsbentinward;angryeyesrolledinapparentfury;tisdoublegesturewtihswordandjaveilnwasviolent and almost humorously menacing. And Ruhannah adored it. ForalittlewhliethechlidplayedherusualgameoffirghteningherdollwiththeYellowDevliandthen rescuingherbytheaidofafairyprincewhichsheherseflhaddesigned,smearedwithwater-colours,and cutoutwtihscissorsrfomapieceofcardboard. Afteraitmesheturnedtotheremainingtreasuresinthewonder-box.Theseconsistedofseveralvolumes containingphotographs,othersfullofsketchesinpencliandwater-colour,andathickrollofglazedilnen scrollscoveredwithdesignsinIndiaink. Thephotographswereofallsotrs—landscapes,rivers,shipsindock,drydock,andatsea;lighthouses, fotrs,horsescarryingsoldiersarmedwtihlancesandwearingtheredfez;artilleryonthemarch,infanrt,y groupsofofficers,allweairngthesamesotroffezwhichlaythereinHerrWilner’sboxofoilvewood. Thereweredrawings,too—sketchesofcannon,ofirfles,ofswords;drawingsofsoldiersinvairousgay unfiorms,allcarefullycolouredbyhand.Therewerepicturesofships,fromthesternsofwhichthecrescent lfaglfoatedlazliy;sketchesofgrea,tugly-lookingobjectswhichherfatherexplainedwereTurkishironclads. Thename“ironclad”alwayssoundedmenacingandformidabletothechlid,andtheforbiddingpictures fascinated her. Thentherewerescoresandscoresofscrollsmadeoutofsilpperywhitelinen,onwhichhadbeendrawnall sortsofmostamazinggeomerticaldesignsinink. “Plans”,hefratherexplainedvaguel.yAnd,whenpressedbyreiteratedquestions:“Plansformlitiaryworks,I believe—fotrs,docks,barracks,fortfiiedcutsandbridges.Youarenotyetqutieoldenoughtounderstand, Ruhannah.” “Who did draw them, daddy?” “AGermanirfendofmine,HerrConradWilner”. “What for?” I“thinkhismastersenthimtoTurkeytomakethosepictures”. “FortheSutlan?” “No;forhisEmpero”.r “Why?” “Idon’texactlyknow,Rue”. Atthisstageoftheconversationherfatherusuallylaidasidehisbookandcomposedhimselfforthe inevtiablenarrativesoontobedemandedofhim. Then,althoughhavingheardthestorymanyitmesrfomhercrippledfather’silps,butneverwearyofthe repeititon,thechlid’seyeswouldgrowroundandverysolemninpreparaitonforhernextandinevitable quesiton: “And did Herr Wilnerdie, daddy?” “Yes,dear”. “Tellme!” “Well,itwaswhenIwasamissionaryintheTrebizonddisirtct,andyourmotherandIwent––” “Andme, daddy? Andme, too!” “Yes;youwereailttlebabyinarms.AndweallwenttoGalilpoiltoattendtheopeningofabeautifulnew schoolwhichwasbuitlforilttleMohammedanconvetrstoChristianity––” “DidIseethoseilttleChrisitanchlidren,daddy?” “Yes, you saw them. But you are too young to remember.” “Tellme.Don’tstop!” “Thenlistenattenitvelywtihoutinterrupitng,Rue:YourmotherandyouandIwenttoGallipoli;andmyrfiend, HerrWline,rwhohadbeenstayingwithusatatowncalledTchardak,camealongwithustoattendthe openingoftheAmericanschoo.l “Andthenightwearrivedtherewastrouble.TheTurkishpeople,urgedonbysomebadofficialsinthe Sanjak,camewtihgunsandswordsandspearsandsetifretothemissionschoo.l “Theydidnotoffertoharmus.Wehadarleadycollectedourconvertsandourpersonalbaggage.Our caravanwasstaitrng.ThemobmightnothavedoneanythingworsethanburntheschoolfiHerrWlinerhad notlosthistemperandthreatenedthemwithadogwhip.Thentheyklliedhimwtihstones,thereinthewalled yard.” Atthispoinitnthertagedy,theeagerlyawaitedandardentlydesiredshiverspassedupanddownthechild’s back. “O—oh!Didtheykillhimdead?” “Yes,dea.r” “Washeamatryr?” Inawayhewasamatryrtohisduty,Isuppose.AtleastIgathersorfomhisdiaryandfromwhatheonce “ toldmeofhisfile”. “Andthenwhathappened?Tellme,dadd.y” “AGreeksteamertookusandourbaggagetoTrebizond”. “And what then?” “And then, a year later, the terrible massacre at our Trebizond mission occurred––” Thatwaswhatthechildwaswaitingfor. “Iknow!”sheinterruptedeagerly.“ThewickedTurksandthecruelKurdsdidcomegallopingandshouitng ‘Allah!’Andallthepoo,rconvetredpeoplebecamemartyrs.AndGodlovesmatryrs,doesn’tHe?” “Yes, dear––” “AndthentheydidkillallthepoortillteChrisitanchildren!”exclaimedthechlidexcitedl.y“Andtheydidcut youwtihswordsandguns!AndthenthekindsaliorswiththeAmeircanlfagtookyouandmammaandmeto a ship and saved us by the grace of our Lord Jesus!” “Yes, dear––” “Tellme!” “Thaitsall––” “No;youwalkontwocrutches,andyoucannotbeamissionaryanymorebecauseyouaresickaltlheitme! Tell me, daddy!” “Yes.Andthatisal,lRue––” “Oh,no!Please!Tellme!...Andthen,don’tyourememberhowthebraveBriitshsaliorsandourbrave American sailors pointed their cannon at theItoyuotahllsohorwesotshoot‘,dnoDyehtias,dsdanro-lanco pieces’.AndthenthebraveAmericansailorswentonshoreandbroughtbacksomepoorlittlewounded convetredchildren,andyourbaggageandthemagicboxofHerrWilner!” “Yes, dear. And now that is enough tonight––” “Oh,daddy,youmustfirstreadinthedi-a-rywhichHerrWlinermade!” “Bringmethebook,Rue”. Wtihaninterestforevernew,theCarewfamliypreparedtolistentothewordswrttienbyastrangemanwho haddiedonlyafewmomentsatferhehadmadethelastenrtyinthebook—beforeeventheinkwasentirely dry on the pages. Thechlid,stiitngcross-leggedonthelfoo,rclaspedhelrlttiehandstightly;hermotherlaidasidehersewing, foldedti,andplaceditinherlap;herfathersearchedthroughthepencilledtranslaitonwhichhehadwrtiten inbetweenthelinesofGermanscirp,tfoundwherehehadleftoffthetimebefore,thenconitnuedthediaryof HerrConradWline,rdeceased: March 3.YehidlitnetotbeesennslaavhginilapMyroaPzecalyM.pudcalisteeargtoootBreilnhwnea messengerfromourEmbassyarrives.MuradBeyknowsthis.Iamsorryheknowsi.tButnobody except myself is aware that I have a third set of plans carefully hidden. March 4.MurwithdayAllitgnstemnedas’gnntsunderwater;wrieneatgnelemoytrsertrpaliolowtruThsiksedtheenrtancetothebay,andcavarlypartolsontheheightstowarnawaythecurious. March 6.the new plans. Wired areas underForts Alamout and Shah Abbas are being reconstructed from waterandalongthecovesandshoalsarebeingplotted.MuradBeyisunusuallypoltieandeffusive, conversing with me in German and French. A spidery man and very dangerous. March 7.argnAtsdrtenabeingsevere,Ilfetymtnetbaicagffaraistlagin.thehTtaehtwenadngithimnduot downtothedockwheremyilttlesailboatlay,withtheobjectofcoolingmyselfonthewate.rTherewasa hotlandbreeze;IsaliedoutintothebayandcruisednotrhalongthecoveswhichIhavewired.AsI roundedaliltterockypointIwassurprisedtoseeinthemoonlight,verynear,asteamyachtatancho,r carryingnoilghts.ThelongerIlookedatherthemorecertainIbecamethatIwasgazingattheImperial yacht.Ihadnoideawhattheyachtmightbedoinghere;Iranmysaliboatcloseundertheoverhanging rocksandanchored.ThenIsawasmallboatinthemoonlight,pullingrfomtheyachttowardshore, wherethecrescentcovehadarleadybeenthoroughlystakedandthebottomcloselycoveredwtih barbedwireasfarastheedgeofthedeepchannelwhichcurvesinherelikeascimita.r Itmusthavebeenthatthepeopleintheboatmiscalculatedthelocationofthechanne,lfortheywere welloverthesunkenbarbedwirewhentheylfitedandthrewoverboardwhattheyhadcometheretoget irdof—twodarkbulksthatsplashed. IwatchedtheboatpullbacktotheImpeiralyacht.Alittlelatertheyachtweighedanchorandsteamed northward,burningnoilghts.Onlytheredrelfecitontingeingthesmokerfomherstackswasvisible.I watchedheruntlishewaslostinthemoonligh,tthinkingallthewhileofthoseweightedsackssooften droppedoverboardalongtheBosporusandoffSeraglioPoinrftomthatsameImperialyach.t When the steamer had disappeared, I got out my sweeps and rowed for the place where the dark objects had been dropped overboard. I knew that they must be resting somewhere on the closely criss-crossed mesh of wires just below the surface of the water; but I probed for an hour before I located anything.Anotherhourpassedinrtyingtohookintotheobjectwtihtheltiltethree-lfukedgrapnelwhichIusedasananchor.Igotholdofsomethingifnally;aheavychestofolivewoodboundwtihmeta;lbutI hadtoirgatacklebeforeIcouldhoisttiaboard. Then I cast out again; and very soon my grapnel hooked into what I expected—a canvas sack, weightedwtiharoundshot.WhenIgotitaboard,Ihesitatedalongwhilebeforeopeningti.FinallyI madealongsltiinthecanvaswithmyknife.... Shewasveryyoung—notoversixteen,Ithink,andshewasreallybeautfiul,evenunderherwe,tdark hair.SheseemedtobeaCaucasiangirl—maybeaGeorgian.Sheworeasmallgoldcrosswhichhung fromagoldcordaroundherneck.Therewasanothe,randtighte,rcordaroundherneck,too.Icutthe slikbowsrtingandclosedandboundhereyeswtihmyhandkerchiefbeforeIrowedoutalitltefarther andloweredheirntothedeepchannelwhichcutseastwardherelikethescimitarofthattruebeileve,r Abdul Hamid. ThenIhoistedsailandbeatupslowlytowardmylittledockunderamoonwhichhadbecomeghaslty underthepallidauraofagatheirngstorm–– “Apoordeadyounglady!”interruptedthechild,claspingherhandsmoreitghlt.y“DidtheSultanklilhe,r daddy?” “It seems so, Ruhannah.” “Why?” “Idont’know.HewasaverycruelandwickedSultan.” “Idon’tseewhyhekliledthebeautfiulpoordeadlad”.y I“fyouwlililstenandnotinterrup,tyoushalllearnwhy.” “AndwasthechestthatHerrWilnerpulleduptheverysamechestthatishereonthefloorbesideme?” insistedthechlid. “Theverysame.Nowlisten,Rue,andIshallreadalittlemoreinHerrWilner’sdiar,yandthenyoumusthave your bath and be put to bed––” “Please read, daddy!” TheReverendWilbourCarewturnedthepageandquieltycontinued: March 20.ahwofrardfuMidondrn,aagaidnoziberTtasrtearqunowymIne.il Acanvascoverandropehandlesconcealedthecharacterofmyoilvewoodches.tIdonotbeileve anybody suspects it to be anything except one of the various boxes containing my own personal effects. Ishallopenittonightwithaifleandchiselfi,possible. March 21.octnhTeofnesteschethalveretihtemoshtfogn.yTehbertgadellofleoxisfuettininrettrws Russian,andfullofstoneswhichweighcollectivelyahundredpoundsatleas.tThereisnothingelsein thechestexceptabrokenIkonandabronzefigureofErilk,aYlidizrelic,nodoubt,ofsomeKurdishraid intoMongoila,andprobablyplacedbesidethedeadgirlbyhermurderersindeirsion.Iamtranslating thelettersandarrangingtheminsequence. March 25.tyTaa,anneofoeveslarlihcnerddeadgirl’snameawsvedineltyratvehadtelansttelehtehT.sreI ofsomeCossackchieforpettypirnce,andontheeveofhermariragetoayoungofficernamedMtiya theKurdsraidedthetown.TheycarriedpoorTatyanaoffalongwithherweddingchest—thechest fished up with my grapnel. Inbrief,thechestandthegirlfoundtheirwayintoAbdu’lsseragilo.Thelettersofthedeadgilr—which werewttirenandentrustedprobablytoafaithlessslave,butwhichevidentlyneverlefttheseragilo